


Burying the Past

by newnumbertwo



Category: Major Crimes
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3171972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newnumbertwo/pseuds/newnumbertwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy needs a little help dealing with a painful anniversary...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burying the Past

Title: Burying the Past  
Word Count: ~4900  
Rating: T  
Fandom: Major Crimes  
Disclaimer: don't own them.  
Characters/Paring: Sharon/Andy  
Summary: Andy needs a little help dealing with a painful anniversary...  
A/N: Written for [](http://ozzyj.livejournal.com/profile)[**ozzyj**](http://ozzyj.livejournal.com/) for the gift exchange at [](http://majorcrimes.livejournal.com/profile)[**majorcrimes**](http://majorcrimes.livejournal.com/). Thanks to [](http://lanalucy.livejournal.com/profile)[**lanalucy**](http://lanalucy.livejournal.com/) and [](http://laura-mayfair.livejournal.com/profile)[**laura_mayfair**](http://laura-mayfair.livejournal.com/) for the beta work, brainstorming, and title. *hugs*

 

Being a cop and a recovering alcoholic are a lot alike in some ways. One of the first things he’d learned on the force was to try to forget the ugliness, to not bring it home with him. Failing that, he’d turned to drink. Later, he’d learned recovering drunks have a prayer that reminds them to accept what can’t be changed and to have courage to change what can.

It was a good prayer for cops too. But there were still cases that got to him, the ones he couldn’t forget, and couldn’t _accept_. Alice was one of them - he refused to forget her at least until they learned her real name and where she’d come from. Gracie was another one.

In his life there were victims and dirtbags, and sometimes the victims were also dirtbags, but that didn’t matter. It was his job to investigate their deaths and help put the dirtbags responsible away. Gracie was different. Usually, Flynn didn’t encounter a victim until after he or she had died. By some twist of fate, though, he’d witnessed the final moments of Gracie’s life. And those were the moments he relived occasionally.

“Andy, is everything okay?” Sharon asked.

He looked up. “Yeah, Captain. Never better.”

She nodded and returned to her place in front of the murder board. They had been playing “count the coincidences,” and they had enough to bring in the latest scumbag for questioning.

Provenza was predicting the play-by-play. Sharon had ideas of her own. Either Provenza or Sharon would prove correct. They would make their arrest, followed by a deal, and then they would all wake up the next day and do it again.

//////////////////////////////////////////

“I’m sorry, am I boring you, Captain?” Provenza asked.

She snapped to attention. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I’m...my head is elsewhere.” She gave a small embarrassed smile, the one perfect for disarming her lieutenants and detectives. “Please continue.”

“I’ve lost my train of thought.”

He grumbled as he sat down. At first, he was annoyed with her for not paying attention, then annoyed with himself for backing down so quickly. Of everyone in the department, she could read him the best, which probably annoyed him all the more.

“It’ll come back to you, I’m sure.” She grinned. “Something about it always being the husband, perhaps.”

“Can’t argue with experience.”

“No, you can’t.” She glanced through the glass. “Andy doesn’t seem himself today. Do you think anything’s wrong?”

Provenza shrugged. “I’ve got nothing.”

She nodded. “I thought maybe he’d said something.”

“As if I can make sense of anything he says.”

She laughed. “Always thought you were an unlikely partnership.”

“That’s a common trend around here,” he said. “If you want to know what’s going through that man’s head, you should probably just ask him.” He put up his hands, as though to say ‘just sayin,’ and retreated from her office.

///////////////////////////////////////////////

“Hey, Andy. I guess it’s _that_ day again,” his sponsor, Jack, said into the phone.

“Yeah. How’d ya know?” Andy asked.

“Anymore, you only call on the anniversary of your divorce, your kids’ birthdays, and today.”

“She would have graduated from college this year.”

Jack groaned his sympathy. “What can I do? Are you okay?”

“I’m all right. I keep seein’ it over and over again. I’m set to meet my therapist later.”

“Lieutenant Andrew Flynn in therapy?! When did this happen?”

“When my ex drove me crazy with Nicole’s wedding stuff.”  
Jack chuckled. “That would do it.” They exchanged more small talk before ending the call.

It was time to get back to the current case. Gracie’s last words - about her dad - kept running through his mind. He shook his head and stepped into Sharon’s office.

“Andy? What’s going on?” Sharon asked.

He sat in front of her desk.

“Can I take a half day? I...I’m not giving my all today.”

She nodded. “You do seem a bit off.” She gave that non-judgemental smile of hers. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not sure you remember. It was this case a few years ago. A young woman on one of those motor-scooter things--”

“Gracie.”

He nodded. “Yeah. How’d you--”

She raised a brow. “With the Commissioner’s wife as the ‘person of interest,’ don’t you think Chief Pope would have wanted me involved?”

Good old Pope. Always great at covering his ass - at the expense of everyone else’s. “I don’t remember you being there.”

“Oh, I wasn’t. At the time, I didn’t think Chief Johnson would have responded well to my presence.” He nodded. “Chief Pope was in charge of monitoring the case. I was behind the scenes, trying to keep us from being sued. On all fronts.” She sighed. “For what it’s worth, I’m really glad the team got Mrs. Meyers. She’d been getting away with it for so long, but no more.”

“I ‘got away with it’ for awhile too.”

“Is that what this is about? You don’t feel _responsible_ for Gracie’s death, do you?”

He shook his head. “Not for hers, no. But…” He threw up his hands. “It could have so easily been me. Drinking. Driving. Thinking I was somehow above it all. I may not have been the Commissioner’s spouse, but I had buddies who could get me off.”

She shook her head. “Do you really think _I_ would have let you get away with it? If you recall, Lieutenant Flynn, I was quite….persistent during my IA days.”

“I’m glad that’s not something we...you had to deal with. I was enough of a peach sober.”

She neither confirmed nor denied that he’d been the bane of her existence just a few years ago. He shuddered to think of the things he’d said. She never held it against him, though.

“You took the initiative to quit drinking. _You_ did it. That’s why you’re not like Gail Meyers or Sharon Beck.” She nodded emphatically. “And the answer is yes. Take the time you need.”

“You know I hate leaving like this.”

She smiled sadly. “Michael will still be dead tomorrow.”

////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Have a seat, Andy.” Dr. Fitzgerald said, gesturing to the adjacent chair. At least it wasn’t a couch.

He sat. “Thanks for seeing me. I know it’s short notice.”

“Can’t say no to a patient in need. Tell me what’s troubling you today.”

Andy took a breath. “An old case.” Dr. Fitzgerald nodded. “A young woman was riding a motor-scooter thing. And we were stopped at a red light together. She looked over at me, and I smiled.

“Then the light changed. We started going when someone barreled into her lane and ran her off her scooter and kept going.”

“I see,” Dr. Fitzgerald said. “Continue.”

“Yeah, so I turned on my siren and maneuvered my car into Gracie’s - the girl’s lane. I called it in, remembering as much as I could about the car, but my focus was on her.  
“She talked to me the whole time. Said how angry her dad would be if he found out she’d ridden on the highway. He was angry all right, but not with Gracie. Never with her.”

“You solved the case?”

“My team and me did, yeah. Some commissioner’s wife. Ended up in one of those country clubs that pass for rehab. Ruined her husband’s career - not that I cared much for the guy. Made her own daughter feel guilty for everything.”

“And she killed a young woman,” Dr. Fitzgerald said.

Andy nodded.

“What is it that bothers you the most?”

Andy shrugged. “I don’t know, doc. I mean, it’s always tough with kids. You wanna protect them from these dirtbags, and when you can’t...it sucks. But with Gracie. It was right in front of me. If we had been in different lanes--”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Dr. Fitzgerald nodded. “What about the driver? You mentioned rehab. I’m assuming she was drunk.”

“Yeah. Loaded,” Andy said. “And I know what you’re gonna say. Part of me can imagine a similar scenario with me behind the wheel.” He shook his head. “God knows I took that risk enough times.”

“But you stopped before the problem could escalate that far.”

“That’s what my commanding officer said today.”

“She seems to think highly of you.”

Andy shrugged. “I don’t know about that. She’s just...she’s a really good boss, you know. I didn’t know what to expect at first--”

“Because she had worked with internal affairs?”

“She didn’t just work with them. She _was_ them. Wrote more laws and bylaws than any other officer since the inception of the LAPD.”

Dr. Fitzgerald nodded. “And you’ve had run ins with her before?”

“I’m a hothead and a recovering alcoholic. I’m a prime candidate for excessive force investigations.” He shook his head. “But I’ve always been cleared. But, you see, none of that matters with Sharon. She just...she wants us all to be the best officers we can be. And today I wasn’t it, so I called you.”

“I’m not sure I’m what you need.”

“What do you mean?” Andy raised a brow. He was already paying for the hour - he’d better get every cent worth.

“Tell me about you and Sharon. Were you able to fix the misunderstanding with your family?”

Andy gazed at his shoes. “Not exactly.”

“Meaning?”

“I avoid talking about me and Sharon with Nicole, but she still brings us up anyway.” Andy held his head in his hands.

“And?”

“And I haven’t told Sharon. We go to dinner and other places - as friends.”

“Is that what you want?”

Andy looked up. “I want to still be friends with Sharon when she finds out.”

“Why do you think Nicole is so receptive to Sharon?”

“Why wouldn’t she be? My daughter’s smart and a great judge of character. And Sharon is...great.”

“And how does this misunderstanding make you feel? Really?”

“When I’m not worried it’s all gonna blow up in my face somehow, it feels pretty great. Sharon’s a wonderful friend. And Nicole treats me like she did when she was a kid, when she thought I was her hero and not her stepdad.”

Dr. Fitzgerald nodded. “In other words, you’re good with the status quo. But what will you do when it ‘blows up’?”

“Try to get in both of their good graces again.” He shrugged. “It’s a flawed plan, but what else can I do?”

“And you understand--”

“They both have good reason to be pissed at me, yeah, I got that,” Andy said. “But what does any of this have to do with Gracie?”

“Have you been thinking about her these last several moments?”

Andy shook his head. “No. I guess not.”

“You’ve talked to me. You’ve talked to your sponsor, correct?” Andy nodded. “You talked to Sharon. You know why you identify with the victim, her family, and the driver. You don’t need healing, Andy. You need a day for grieving and remembrance.”

“So, you’re saying I should….”

“Surround yourself with family, friends. Someone who understands the job would be best.”

“Someone like Capt--Sharon.”

Dr. Fitzgerald nodded. “As you say. And our time is up.”

“Thanks, doc.” Andy stood and shook his hand.

“Good luck,” Dr. Fitzgerald said as Andy left the office.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“What are you doing here? You’re off this afternoon. That means you go someplace else,” Provenza said.

“Really? I wasn’t aware of what being ‘off’ meant.” Andy rolled his eyes. Provenza snorted. “Is Sharon...the Captain around?”

Provenza went to the printer and retrieved what looked like a rap sheet.

“New suspect?” Andy asked.

“A jealous husband kills his wife’s lover, and the sun rises and sets.” Provenza shook his head. “The Captain is in her office. Just…”

“What?”

“It’s not the best time.”

Andy searched Provenza’s face. The old curmudgeon would never admit it, but he always had Sharon’s back. But what was he protecting her from?

“Oh, why?”

Provenza glanced around. Sykes and Sanchez were out of the murder room, and Mike was working diligently with Buzz on some tech thing. “Her lawyer called.”

“Lawyer? Oh, right, yeah. Not good news, I guess.”

“Jack Raydor has found a way to outdo himself, it seems. Going by her very foul language.”

Meaning she’d uttered the dreaded “damn.” Coming from someone with Sharon Raydor’s composure, a “damn” meant more than a “fuck” from anyone else. Andy nodded. “Maybe I should…” He gestured toward her office.

Provenza shrugged and returned his focus to the rap sheet in his hands. His partner clearly had more to say, but was being uncharacteristically quiet.

Andy knocked on Sharon’s door and stepped inside. “Hey, Captain.”

She’d shed whatever tears she was going to, but the evidence remained. Still, she met his eyes and forced a smile. “Andy? I didn’t expect...how did...how are you?”

He took his customary seat. “I’m good.” He shrugged. “And crazy since I rushed back here.”

She giggled.

“What about you? Is the, um, case going…”

She nodded. “We caught a break. Lieutenant Provenza is looking through records. Mike’s working on getting into the phone we found at the scene. And Amy and Julio are following up,” she said. “We’re good.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

She leaned forward. “As your immediate supervisor, I should ask why you’re here when you requested a half day.”

He shrugged. “Where am I gonna go?”

“A game? Or matinee?”

“Not as fun without you there.”

Was that too much? He hoped not.

“Even though I talk during the trailers?”

He chuckled. “Are you kidding? That’s the best part, hearing what you think about everything that’s coming out.”

Her mouth quirked into a shy smile that remained, even as she asked, “Seriously, though, is there something I can do?”

He nodded. “My therapist basically said I didn’t need ‘healing’ because I’d already done that work. Instead, I just need to be around people who get it and have a place to grieve Gracie - and Alice while we’re at it.” He shrugged. “So I’m here.”

“Okay, yes. I think I understand the doctor’s logic. Reminds me of something my therapist said years ago--”

“--You were in therapy?!”

She laughed. “You and Rusty were both so surprised to hear that. Why is that?”

He shook his head. “I guess because you always seem to, you know, have it all together.”

“You have no idea how much work _this_ ,” she said, pointing at herself, “takes. And how many years it’s taken me to get it right. I’m still not there, yet, but I’m getting better.” She sighed. “I often wonder if I had gotten enough sleep the night before, maybe I wouldn’t have pulled that trigger. My reflexes, my training, none of that mattered in the moment.”

He didn’t know she still thought about _that_ , those early days on the force. “Is that why you transferred to IA? I was never sure.”

She shook her head. “No, I transferred to IA because it was supposed to prepare me better for a law career, since I was supposed to go to law school after Jack was set up in a firm.” She snorted. “Then, when Jack left, I was glad for the transfer because it paid better--” He snorted. “--and it was safer for me considering I was the sole parent and provider.” She hmmed. “But you’re right. Knowing I wouldn’t be drawing my gun anymore was appealing as well.”

“You transferred just when I was getting used to having you around.”

She nodded. “At the time, I hadn’t planned on being in the department long. I didn’t care who I angered or whose toes I stepped on--”

“--You didn’t--”

“--I did. I’m not sorry about it. Not really. It was what was necessary in a very male dominated world.” She smiled. Proud. “And now I can focus on other things. Like putting Michael’s killer away for life.”

“Maybe I can help with that.”

She nodded.

“Later, would you, um, like to see a movie or something?”

“If the theater is still open by then, yes. Yes, I would. What’s playing?”

“Lots of crap. You know it’s the ‘burner’ time for all the stuff that’s not for the Academy’s consideration.”

She laughed. “I had no idea you knew so much about the ‘business’.”

He shrugged. “Hey, I live in Hollywood, right? Besides, we didn’t have much money growing up, but my grams always gave us enough to go to the movies every week.” He chuckled. “I think she figured we’d get in less trouble there.”

“Probably. So, what’s the best of the crap?”

“The latest Liam Neeson?”

She hmmed. “I have a hard time suspending my disbelief, but...okay.”

He grinned. “I imagine he would be an IA nightmare.”  
“Oh my God, yes. He’d bankrupt the department.”

“We can see something else.”

She put up her hand. “No. It’s fun. Escapism. It’s perfect,” she said. “Now, if you’re reporting back to work, why don’t you see if Lieutenant Provenza could use any help.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Captain. Sharon.”

“Anytime, Andy.” She smiled and watched him leave her office.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

Sharon pulled out her phone and called Rusty. “Hey, Andy and I are going to the movies after work, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Have fun, you two. Whatcha seeing?”

“The latest Liam Neeson one, I think.”

“Cool.”

“It is. I’ll talk to you later. Please try to eat something that isn’t a hamburger.”

He groaned. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe I’ll order a pizza.”

She smiled. “Perfect. Bye, Rusty.”

She ended the call and left her office. Andy was at his desk looking at her like...she didn’t know what. She approached him. “Ready?”

“Yeah. If we hurry, we can eat dinner too.”

She snorted. “Hurry in LA, that’s unlikely.”

He chuckled. “I took LA traffic and speed into account.”

He guided her to his car, which he’d cleaned since the last time she’d been in it. A great improvement. Mmm. “It smells good in here,” she said.

“It’s amazing what a vacuum and carpet shampoo can do.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, Sharon. For, you know.”

She smiled. “You thank me a lot, you know that?”

“Don’t wanna forget. My grams taught me never to forget someone who’s helped me, and to always say ‘thank you.’ And you’ve helped me a lot. And I have a lot of time to make up for.”

“What do you mean?”

He pulled out of the parking lot. “We were close - I know you don’t think you were close to anyone, but we were. Then you left for IA and I forgot you - and worse,” he said. “Grams would have kicked my ass if she’d been alive.”

She nodded. They’d never spoken much about _then_. Mainly because - at least in her view - there wasn’t much to discuss. They were both married, both rookies in training. He’d had a few months on her and a chip on his shoulder that made him both highly effective and unpredictable. She had simply been going through the motions, but there had been moments when she’d enjoyed the job and thought about forgoing law altogether. They’d been paired up, and as unlikely a partnership as they’d been, they’d worked well together. Then she’d transferred out of Robbery Homicide and out of Sergeant Andrew Flynn’s life - at least until his first FID investigation. He’d looked so hurt, like she’d betrayed him. Then his face had turned - a permanent sneer. She’d damped down her feelings. Like everyone else, Detective Flynn had viewed her as ‘the enemy,’ and she’d forced herself to ignore that it had hurt worse coming from him. After a while, she’d forgotten they’d ever been civil - or more - to each other.

She didn’t know what to say to him now. Years after the fact. And if they’d been friendly during their rookie days, they were true friends now. Perhaps those twenty-five intervening years didn’t matter, not anymore. “I don’t think about it much. Maybe you shouldn’t either,” she said.

“Oh, but I do, Sharon. Making amends, you know. I may have been sober at the time, but that just makes my behavior worse. At least if I’d been drunk, I could use that as an excuse - even if it is a piss poor one.”

“I never held it against you. And I still don’t.”

“Maybe I wish you did. Maybe I’ve always wanted you to push back, to show some emotion.”

“I hope that’s not why you sat in front of my desk so many times, Andy.”

“It was a nice desk. Not as nice as the one now, but…”

“Andy.”

He chuckled. “That’s what I needed then, that voice with just the right sharpness.”

“Hmm. At the time I thought the best thing was to clear you for duty and send you on your way as quickly as possible,” she said. “I don’t recall you ever protesting my expediency.”

He switched lanes, using the turn signal to her satisfaction. “I guess I want to know, did it hurt? Did the loss of our friendship hurt?”

She nodded. “Yes. Yes, it did. At first.”

“Then what?”

“Like you, I forgot.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Me too,” she said. “Now where are you taking me? I don’t need to be worried about you paying me back, do I?”

He chuckled. “Nah. By my calculation, you’re the one I should be worried about.”

////////////////////////////////////////////////

He took her to his favorite Italian restaurant.

“Are we gonna get a table at this hour?” Sharon asked.

He pulled into the back of the lot and parked. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

She hmmed.

He got out of the car and walked around to her side to open her door. She laid her hand in his, and he helped her up. He led her to the entrance, still holding her hand.  
She didn’t say anything, so neither did he.

When the maitre de opened the door for them, he smiled at Andy. “Signor Andy, so good to see you. And who is this lovely signora?”

Andy glanced to see Sharon blush. “This is Sharon.” He left it at that. They were still undefined, and Felix didn’t need to hear their convoluted story.

Felix nodded. Then he grinned at Sharon. “You’re in for a delightful treat, Signora Sharon.”

Sharon returned the grin. “I’m sure. It smells divine in here.”

Felix bowed. “The chefs are, as you say, ‘on’ tonight,” he said. “I’ll take you to your table, my friends.”

Felix took their drink orders after they were seated. Then he left their table.

“ _Your_ table?” she asked.

Andy shrugged. “I come here a lot.”

“I can see why. It’s very...homey.”

“Yeah. Reminds me of Grams’s kitchen.” He leaned toward her. “But the food isn’t quite as good as hers.”

“What about you? Can you recreate her recipes?”

He shook his head. “She never wrote anything down. I tried a few things by memory. It just wasn’t the same.”

She nodded. “My grandmother was the same way. Both of them, actually. Not that I was inclined to attempt anything anyway.”

She picked up the menu, which was printed on both sides of a single sheet of paper. “What do you recommend?”

He suggested the house salad with the house dressing - creamy parmesan, which was made entirely out of butter, cheese, and garlic - to start. Followed by the Chicken Marsala.

“If I order a drink, is that…”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

She shrugged. “Jack never liked me to drink when he couldn’t.”

He snorted. “Don’t get me started on that guy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. We’d be here all night.”

The implication - however slight - that he was like Jack irritated him. But he couldn’t blame her. Her experiences and his ex’s, they weren’t unalike. Not completely. “My problem is my own,” he said. “And I don’t expect the world to abstain because I have to.” She nodded, obviously considering his words carefully. “Of course, this is years after regular meetings and contact with my sponsor,” he added. “I wasn’t this...enlightened when I first quit.”

“I hope you know how much I admire you. What you’ve done.”

He waved it off. “Just doing what I had to, you know.”

“But you’ve _done_ it. That’s what matters,” she said. “I haven’t really thanked you for helping so much with Rusty and his mother.”

He nodded. “Is it wrong if I look at Sharon Beck or Jack and think ‘maybe I’m not that bad’?”

She laughed, but there was little mirth in it. “I’ve been doing that for years. Whenever I used to think I was completely failing as a mother, I would see _truly_ terrible parents, and I’d feel a bit better about myself.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re a great parent.”

“I seem to be doing a better job with Rusty,” she said. “Maybe there’s something to be said for parenting at a more...advanced age.” She sighed. “I was so young with Ricky and Emily, younger than Emily is now, and for most of their upbringing, I was absolutely terrified.”

“I have a hard time picturing you afraid. You were always so strong. Tough.”

“Unapproachable.”

“That too,” he said. “I think it was the trench coat.”

“I was surrounded by people who hated me. Couldn’t let them see me sweat.”

“And at home?”

“My kids needed me. Couldn’t let them see me sweat either.”

He nodded.

“Anyway, what do you think the body count will be in this latest installment?”

He shrugged. “It’s only PG-13. Maybe not so many.”

“You know the PG-13 films have more gun violence than the R-rated ones did 20 years ago?” she asked. “I wonder if that contributes to our line of work.”

“People in general do that,” he said. “It’s what happens when there’s a high concentration of scumbags.”

“Spoken like a true cynic.”

“And the former head of FID is the optimist. Imagine that.”

She leaned forward as if to tell a secret. “If I hadn’t been, you probably would have been off the force years ago. As would most of the members of our team.”

“How did you decide when you conducted your investigations? What did you look for?”

“Patterns, mostly. Take you or Julio, for example. You both tend to go a bit far with suspects, but those...urges come from a good place. So I focused most of my energy on the _real_ problems.”

He chuckled. “I have to say, Captain, I’m offended I wasn’t more of a problem, all the times I had to report to your office.”

“Oh, no. I hope you won’t act out now.” Her eyes twinkled as the mirth returned.

Their server, Felix’s younger brother Enzo, appeared. They each ordered the house salad and their entrees. Sharon ordered a Chardonnay to be brought out with her marsala.

Enzo disappeared into the kitchen, yelling at the cooks in Italian. Sharon and Andy laughed.  
“Where were we?” he asked.

“We were determining just how big a problem you could be to me.”

“Oh, the biggest.”

“Not possible, I’m afraid.”

Bested by Jack again. But that wasn’t a bad thing in this case. “Can I at least be the most fun?”

She tilted her head. “Yes, I think that’s appropriate.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Well, that was...exciting,” she said as they exited the theater.

“Yeah. That ending…”

“Totally implausible.”

He guided her to his car. “Do you want me to just take you home? I can pick you up tomorrow.”

She nodded. “That would be nice, yes. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“Wouldn’t have asked, if I did.”

He opened her door and helped her into her seat. She leaned against the seat rest. When had it gotten so late?

She closed her eyes and barely noticed the car’s movements until they stopped. She glanced through her window; they were in her garage already.

Andy’s eyes were on her. She couldn’t register what his expression meant. “Thanks for humoring me today, Sharon.”

“What are friends for?”

He smiled.

He walked her to her door. “Well, good night,” he said.

His head moved toward hers, and she knew. She had time to turn her head but didn’t. His lips pressed against hers, and then they were gone. She smiled and said good night. Then she stepped inside her apartment.

Rusty was on the sofa. “Hey, Sharon. Did you have a good time?”

She nodded. “Yes, I really did.”

“That’s good,” he said. “Good night.”

“Were you waiting up for me?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I was watching a movie, wanted to see how it ended. And yeah, I guess I wanted to make sure you got in okay.”

“Was the ending worth it?”

“Not really. But now I won’t have to watch it again.”

She laughed and wished him a good night.

Her phone buzzed on her nightstand. She picked it up. A text from Andy: “Had a great time. I’ll bring coffee for the three of us in the morning. Good night, Sharon.”

She grinned and typed out, “Sounds good. See you then.”

She replaced the phone and fell back against her pillows.


End file.
